Letter writer Mildred Terrell used stationery from her New York finishing school in 1918-19 to send letters to George C. Ohland in Grand Rapids.

Happy Valentine's Day ... from Joel and Liz Leo's attic.

That's where they unearthed 44 letters written in the days following World War I that demonstrate an uncommon love between Mildred Terrell and George C. Ohland.

Both are long gone but, in resurrecting some of their legacy, they give us a peek into courtship circa 1918-19, and remind us that perhaps nothing is as binding and beautiful as love.

"I had jumped at the chance to prepare a new room for my first grandson," explained Andrew Waid, 49, a licensed builder who volunteered to remodel an upstairs bedroom for his daughter, Liz, and son-in-law, Leo, at 312 Hampton Ave. SE.

"I was taking plaster down off the ceiling when I hit something. It went 'thump,' and I poked around some more and found a shoebox."

Like a lot of us, Waid was wondering whether it contained long-lost riches.

It did, but not in the form of cash.

Instead, the tattered box held nearly four dozen letters, still in their envelopes and exhibiting the flowery penmanship of a woman who used fine stationery and real ink.

Rummaging around some more above the thin lath boards nailed to the attic joists, Waid also discovered a rolled-up set of papers. They turned out to be the original blueprints for the home, which was built around 1910. Waid figures the articles were placed between the joists from above, before the attic floor planks were nailed down.

In his 25 years of working in the construction business and a related field, Waid has seen his share of old homes and their cavities.

"I once found a rat skeleton in one," he said. "But, other than that, this has been the best find."

In ensuing days, Liz, 26, and Leo, 29, spent hours poring over the letters, as well as searching for descendants of the couple, who married sometime around 1920.

The letters all are written by Mildred to George. He lived at the Hampton address during the early 1900s, while Mildred lived at 2359 Madison Ave. SE. Most of her letters, however, show a return address of the Bennett School for Girls in Millbrook, N.Y.

A Victorian building set on 22 acres, the Bennett School served during the early 1900s as a finishing school for young women enrolled in "domestic science," "voice culture" and "aesthetic dancing."

But it must have bored young Mildred on occasion, if judging only by passages where she expressed a desire to be almost anywhere else -- and especially with George.

"She apparently wrote a letter almost every day, and sometimes two a day," said Liz Leo, nodding to the postmarks on the envelopes, which survive alongside that era's 3-cent postage stamps.

"And when she didn't get a letter from him in return, you can tell that her disposition changed."

In both addressing George and signing off, Mildred resorted to a combination of high English and sentimentality: "With dearest love and a big kiss," she wrote in one instance. "With love, and wishing I were receiving it," she conveyed in another. "To the only one I love," she wrote, and almost always signed herself "Mil."

Although many of the letters deal with mundane topics (while on a train, Mildred shared that she had "two cigs"), some of her communiques reveal mischievous activity.

"Dearest George," she wrote in one letter, "You bad child ... You need a spanking and I hope Daddy gives it to you."

Another, written April 21, 1919, from "Study Hall," tells how she and a friend, Erin, sneaked off school grounds and took a forbidden path across a creek and deep into the woods, only to meet up with "two very attractive men who were hunting."

The men asked them to tea "and then home, which wasn't far off." Mildred tells George that, "We refused, then they simply begged us to let them come and call this coming weekend.

"I said 'Absolutely no,'" wrote Mildred, while "Erin said 'she would think it over' so perhaps she'll have a date after all."

Later on in the letter, Mildred blurts "Oh sweetness," and follows it with eight exclamation marks.

"She was quite a spitfire," said Liz Leo, nodding to the choice of words that Mildred used, and her obvious passion for her beau.

The Leos are researching the Ohland and Terrell family trees in an attempt to place the letters in the hands of deserving descendants. Their preliminary findings show the Ohlands possibly had two sons -- George T. and Otto. There also is evidence of possible grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

In the meantime, they are busy getting that upstairs bedroom ready for the June arrival of their first baby.

And wondering what else lurks between that finished attic floor and the ceilings of three other bedrooms and a bath.